


Together We Can Get Through Anything

by midnightecho



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Camping, Caring Steve, Feels, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Insecure Bucky, M/M, Post-TWS, Reunion, all the feels, mentions of other Avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-26 23:37:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1706735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightecho/pseuds/midnightecho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of The Winter Soldier, Bucky finds Steve who helps him get back to himself. This includes bringing back some old memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: feels. Lots of feels.  
> This is my TWS fallout fic and I had to deal with feels by sharing them with others so... good luck.
> 
> Not betaed so apologies for any spelling/grammar mistakes.

'Hello?'

'Steve? It's Bucky.'

A 9-year-old Steve Rogers held the far-too-big telephone receiver to his ear and grinned to himself as he sat on the floor by the telephone table. Even though they'd seen each other mere hours earlier at school, it gave Steve a warm feeling to hear Bucky's voice. 'Hey Buck, what's up?'

'Just wondering if you fancy going camping this weekend. Nothing special, ya know, just me and my dad, and he said I could bring one friend if I wanted so... I thought I'd ask you.'

The warm feeling spread. Steve had never had a friend like Bucky; to be honest, Steve had never had many friends, but Bucky was definitely special. The conversation they were having would have been fairly standard to most of the kids in Steve's class, but to Steve it was so much more. The thing was, Steve wasn't used to being first. He was never first to be picked in sports because other kids were bigger than him, never first in the lunch queue because other kids could run there faster than him, never asked for a dance at the school disco at all simply because he wasn't one of the cool kids. But it was different with Bucky; Steve was his first choice every time, and that meant so much to his skinny little friend. Bucky didn't need to be told the worth of their friendship; he knew. And they didn't make a big deal out of it either. Just having it was enough. This unspoken mutual appreciation made Steve's heart clench in anticipation of their next adventure together.

He called through to his mother to ask permission.

'Mum says it's fine.' He was sure Bucky could hear the grin in his voice. 

'Awesome,' came Bucky's reply, cool as ever. 'We'll swing by and pick you up around 5 on Friday.'

'Sounds good.'

'See you around, Rogers.'

 

Spaghetti hoops had never tasted as good as they did that Friday evening, huddled round a small bonfire sat on logs and wrapped in blankets. Bucky and Steve shared a tin as they sang a whole variety of Scout songs that Steve had learned (but never had much of a use for seeing as he couldn't afford a uniform - Bucky had taught them to him the evening when Steve had found out he couldn't join the Scout group which Bucky had been going to for half a year. He'd sat sniffling in his bedroom and his friend had serenaded him with slightly out of tune campfire songs, and as they sat round their own reciting them once more, it felt like Steve had always been a Scout too).

After their dinner, the duo retired to the little two-man tent they'd set up earlier with the help of Bucky's father. They shuffled into their respective sleeping bags and lay down facing each other, a torch between them.

They stayed awake talking late into the night, sharing tales of adventures, heroes and villains, and even the odd scary story. Bucky was particularly good at telling the scary ones, Steve thought, and he even used the torch for dramatic effect. There were re-enactments for one particularly animated retelling of a tale involving a shark, a mermaid and a Tyrannosaurus Rex, and Steve laughed and gasped just when he was meant to (he could tell by the smirk on his friend's face).

But eventually the time came when the adult told them to turn out the light and get some sleep, so they sat whispering for another while longer before quieting down.

'Buck, what's that noise?' Steve whispered into the dark, pulling his sleeping bag up a little and gripping the edge with white knuckles.

'Those'll be cicadas,' Bucky replied. 'Nothing to worry about, just make a bit of a racket that's all.'

Despite Bucky's presence and reassurances, suddenly Steve could only think of all the bugs that must be crawling around on the forest floor all around them and what things nastier than cicadas could be lurking out in the shadows. 'Bucky, I'm scared.'

'Don't be, you're perfectly safe. I'm here,' he soothed, shuffling closer to his friend and wrapping an arm around him. Steve instinctively snuggled into the safety of him. 

'I'll protect you Stevie, don't worry. Together we can get through anything.'


	2. Chapter 2

Steve still couldn't believe it. He doubted he'd ever get used to having Bucky around again. He'd lived for so long without his best friend, adjusted to 70 years of changes by himself with nobody who really knew what he was going through. But now he had Bucky.

Sure, things were different between them than it had been back in the good old days, but that might be because, ya know, Bucky had hunted him down and tried to kill him under HYDRA's influence, but no matter how many times Steve reassured him, Bucky would never forgive himself for it.

The rain had been hammering down the night Steve had heard that tentative tap on his door. By the time he opened it the hunched figure was halfway down the road, but he knew who it was immediately.

'... Bucky?'

Steve's voice broke on the name that he'd mourned for so many years, the one person he'd wished for as he braved a new world, praying that by some insane miracle he could have his best friend beside him to make it seem a little more like home. 

Seeing him on the bridge and the helicarrier had torn his hopes apart.

The figure had stopped, and in the dim light of the street lamp even without seeing his face Steve could see how much Bucky had changed since the helicarrier. His hands were shoved in his pockets, shoulders slumped forwards, head hung low. His rain-sodden hair limply framed his face, and for the first time in his life, James Buchanan Barnes looked small.

He seemed to steel himself before he turned. Steve tucked his hands into the pockets of his sweats, scrunching the material in his hands. He felt more vulnerable than he'd ever felt in battle, even New York, and his heart fluttered nervously as Bucky's eyes reluctantly met his.

A raw pain jolted through Steve when that contact was made; Bucky's bright blue eyes were heavy with guilt and anger, apologies and anguish, all so intense after the blank unfamiliar stare Steve had received on the bridge. All this flashed across his eyes in a split second but suddenly dissolved into the most gut-wrenching self-loathing imaginable as Bucky took in Steve properly for the first time since remembering. And the thing he noticed most amongst the agonising familiarity of Steve's features was the bruises. The bruises he had caused. The swell in his cheek and around his eye, the cut across his lip... 

And it was too much. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and looked away, jaw clenched against whatever emotion was threatening to violently pour out of him. He turned back to the gloom of the street and started off again, wanting to leave this for a later day when the physical and emotional wounds weren't so unbearably fresh-

He didn't know whether he caught it out if the corner of his eye or whether it was all his distant memories seeping back in with the sight of Steve, but Bucky _knew_ that his old friend dropped his head. Oh fuck, he couldn't do this to Steve; turn up on his doorstep than vanish without a word. He couldn't disappoint him like this.

_But he deserves so much more than you. You tried to kill him, for God's sake, why would he want to see you?_

Steve was the last person who deserved as shitty a friend as Bucky, but he did deserve the opportunity to talk to him, to ask him why; hell, even to give Bucky a bruise or two in return. It would be no less than he deserved. He couldn't turn away from Steve when he'd seen that hope and relief etched amongst the bruises. He never should've turned away at all.

Steve stood on the pavement throughout this internal dispute of Bucky's. He itched to stride forward and pull Bucky close, tell him it was all okay and that none of it mattered, that he was still his best friend, 'cause hey, it wasn't his fault he got kidnapped by and evil organisation and was made into a brainwashed deadly weapon-

But he knew Bucky needed to decide what to do for himself. Steve knew what it was like to be surrounded by a world that didn't make sense, but he had no idea what his friend must have been feeling. If it was time he needed, Steve was prepared to wait. He'd waited 70 years; he could wait a few more.

But then Bucky's boots were churning up the tiny stones that littered the pavement as he turned back towards Steve. 

This time Bucky's eyes were sorrowful and sincere, wet with emotion. They held gazes for a long moment that seemed pull them towards each other and eventually, Bucky took a single shaky step forward.

Steve spurred himself towards his friend, closing the gap in a few long strides and wrapping his arms around him and holding him tight as though his life depended on it. Bucky sunk into the embrace, burying his face into Steve's shoulder muttering over and over through the lump in his throat and the water in his eyes that rolled out unasked that he was sorry; he was sorry for what he'd tried to do, sorry he didn't recognise him, sorry about what he let happen to the world while he was gone, sorry that he'd been a part of it; sorry he hadn't been right by his side like he should have been all along. 

'Woah woah woah, Bucky.' Steve's voice was firm despite the emotional hitch there. His hand gripped the back of Bucky's neck and he looked straight into his eyes. 'Listen to me. None of that is your fault. None of it, you hear me? HYDRA kidnapped you. They _stole_ you, Bucky, they wiped your memories and trained you to be a killer by hiding away everything that made you who you are. And it is entirely their fault.'

'But I could've resisted - I could've stopped them doing-'

'No you couldn't. Nobody could. Hell, you've got away from them now; that's more than anyone else could do. And by some miracle... you're still you.'

Bucky let out one of the weariest sighs Steve had even heard. 'It could take a while to convince me of that.'


	3. Chapter 3

It was taking a while, but Steve was getting Bucky back to himself little by little. One great thing about having Bucky around was that Steve wasn't the least up-to-date anymore; the only experiences Bucky had had of the modern world were vague peripherals from when he was focused on a mission. Most of what he'd seen had been wiped or edited and as a result his whole view of the world was skewed, so that left it down to Steve to catch him up.

A lot of their days were spent looking up things from Steve's recommendation book (Bucky had made a joke about it when Steve first showed him but was secretly impressed), and the best thing about those days was that now Steve had someone to share this new experience with; usually it would've been himself quietly appreciating a certain record, but sharing it with Bucky made it a hundred times better. He'd been pretty quiet to start with, but as the weeks stretched on, Steve had noticed a definite shift.

It started off with the smiles. Steve would have the radio on in the kitchen and be bopping along to the new-fangled music of this century whilst stirring a pan of beans for their breakfast and the music would change to a modern jazzy number and Steve would suddenly pick up in enthusiasm, moving to the similar beats from their own past. Something stirred in Bucky to see that, a flutter deep within him reminiscent of years ago when he would drag Steve to clubs because he knew he wouldn't have any other plans for the evening and he deserved a good night out. 

Steve hasn't gained much of a rhythm since those days, but the memories pulled at the corner of his lips as Steve wiggled his hips from side to side. He caught Bucky watching him and positively grinned.

'What you looking at, Barnes? Never seen someone "work it" before? Thats what they're calling it these days.'

Bucky tried to look amused but the truth was, Steve's words had hit home. Bucky hadn't seen anyone dance for years. Hadn't seen anyone have a bit of fun. It wasn't so bad for Steve; he'd been asleep through the years he'd missed. But Bucky had been wide awake the whole time, trained and trained hour after hour, day after day, year after year. 

Bucky had forgotten what it was like to be free.

And if anyone was going to change that, it was Steve.

'I've got to go on a supply run - want me to get anything while I'm out?'

Bucky had decided - actually decided for himself; that in itself was a step forward - that he wanted spaghetti hoops for dinner. He didn't know why, he just had a vague recollection of them. 

Steve smiled and said he'd pick some up. 'I'll be about an hour or so. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone.'

That was the next smile that stuck in Steve's memory. A typical Bucky smirk that could convince Steve that nothing had changed over the years.

'How can I? You're taking all the stupid-'

Bucky seemed to realise what he was saying as though it had been a reflex rather than a conscious decision to talk and suddenly looked up, remembering himself, then turned to Steve.

'...with you,' Bucky finished carefully. A vulnerability lingered in the look he gave Steve, and the super soldier had to force himself to walk out the door before he ran to his friend and held onto him forever.

Watching films was definitely the best part. There were some Steve had already seen in his few revived years, and showing them to Bucky made him realise just how exciting it had been for the rest of the Avengers to show him Star Wars (Tony had made a whole event of it, and at the crucial reveal moment the entire team was crowded around, watching his reaction. Steve had to admit, he would never had guessed the apparently historical movie twist - which he supposed was why it had become historic). 

Showing Bucky all the new things this age had brought was one thing, but reminding him of the old stuff was something else. 

Late one afternoon Steve told Bucky they were going out. He didn't say where, no matter how much his friend asked, just drove with a private smile on his lips.

Eventually Steve turned into somewhere green-looking. The guy at the gate gave Captain America a grin and waved them through.

By the time they'd pulled up, Bucky had sussed what was going on. There was a tent set up beside a smouldering campfire ready and waiting for them in the middle of the campsite - the same one they had visited all those years ago. They'd gone every other weekend when they were younger, shared all their secrets in the quiet that settled over the depths of the city-central camping ground; they'd laughed here, they'd run around together, collapsed breathless, discussed, debated, disagreed, divulged, depended-

The endless memories of those nights hit Bucky like a punch to the gut. He stepped out and stared, gripping the car door with a _clunk_ to stabilise himself. His breath came short and water welled in his eyes, but a tentative smile lifted the corners of his mouth. His human hand rose and covered it in an attempt to hold back the sob that threatened.

Steve was suddenly beside him, a hand on his shoulder. 'Buck? Are you okay? Was this a bad idea?'

'I didn't know I still had memories of this place.' The tears overflowed, unbidden. 

Steve put an arm around his friend's shoulders and led him to one of the logs beside the fire.

Sitting made Bucky feel more grounded and as the quiet settled over him, so did the past. It immersed him. He took in the trees beside their spot and the times that they would race to see who could climb the fastest, he took in the path that ran through the site that they'd cycled down on bikes Bucky had taken from the school bike racks, he took in... well, he took in Steve. The boy who he had shared all of this with on countless occasions, now grown and changed in so many ways but still so strongly himself in a world that he tried to make him its own.

Steve Rogers truly was a miracle. 

His best friend smiled and took his hand between his own. He took a deep breath before saying, 'I know what this is like. I remember the first time I came back here, but without you it felt empty. I haven't been back since. But now it feels just like it always used to. Everything does. Having you beside me again is more than I ever let myself believe possible, and we've been through shit but we made it back here. Together. The way it should be, Buck. Together we'll get through anything.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: the Star Wars watching was an idea from Tumblr, I can't take credit for it - but I loved the thought of it and had to include it. 
> 
> Damn I ship this so freaking much. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
